Beautiful Thieves

Chapter 3: Friends, New, Old, and Hated

The Sierra Mountain air nipped at Hunter's bare arms, and made him feel cold for the first time in years. He didn't bring a jacket, figured he wouldn't need one, but now he was second guessing his decision. October weather wasn't the coldest, but right now it was definitely chilly. 

The Consortium looked like a vampiric medieval castle with its high towers and grey stone. It was nearly nightfall and the windows of the buildings gave off a warm yellow glow, making it seem like the set of Harry Potter. Which, if Hunter thought about it long enough, wasn't that far off. 

He picked up two of his five bags, the rest were on one of those bell hop carts, and made his way through the buildings. With ever step he took towards his new dorm building, his nerves doubled. He wanted to move in and get along with his roommates so badly, but at the same time he still harbored some resentment at not choosing to attend the Consortium. He always knew he'd become a Protector, ever since he turned eight years old he knew. He also knew that he had no choice in the matter, his parent's had made that clear. As a child the prospect of becoming a government official in the world of the Supernaturals seemed amazing, something that only the top of the top got to be. He paid attention in school, taking notes so he could be the best Protector there would ever be. But like all people, as he got older, he learned the error of his ways. 

Hunter knew what it meant to become a Protector-knew the blood, sweat, and tears that went into the process and how most people didn't make it out the other side without some mental damage. He knew the long hours and dangerous tasks that the job entailed. He knew the way he would be treated, like a disposable object rather than an actual person. 

And yet. 

And yet, here he was. Standing in the elevator with the bell hop cart waiting to go up in an elevator that smelled like blood and puke. He knew without knowing why he was going through with it. He knew it was all for her. His best friend from the ages of birth to eight years old. They'd played in his backyard every day until the sun went down and stayed up all night watching bad horror movies. Her with her brown hair that was always in braids and green eyes that he'd only ever seen on her. They shined brighter than the sun, and deep like emeralds. Even at eight years old he knew that her eyes were the most beautiful he'd ever see. 

The elevator doors opened and Hunter walked to his new dorm. With a deep breath and a quick run through his hair with a shaking hand, he braced himself to open the door. And he stopped. 

He couldn't go through with it. Not right now. If he went through the door, it would just solidify everything, and he didn't think he could handle that right, not yet. 

Slowly he backed away and set his bags at the end of the hallway. He knew he should probably care about the idea of someone stealing his stuff, but for the life of him he just couldn't care. He just wanted to get out. 

Hunter left the building, and found a coffee shop that seemed to be popular amongst the upperclassmen. He ordered his favorite drink, black coffee, and took a seat in the corner. He breathed deeply a few times to calm himself. Sooner or later he'd have to go into that room. He'd have to face his fate. 

Hunter knew he had to go through with it, for her. She didn't know it yet, but she needed him. He just hoped she wouldn't hate him after finding out why. 

***

The interrogation room of the New York Institute was white. White walls, with dirty rust colored stains in the grout between the tiles, white tile floor that was slightly grey with signs of use and abuse. White ceiling that was decorated with a slightly yellow light that shone too bright for Fallon to see clearly. He was pretty sure that the table and chairs were white too, if not a little bit dented and rusty.